Ephemeral Paradise
by sr-canvas
Summary: [ON HOLD] A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme—about two lovers, worlds apart yet heavily intertwined by the strings of love. A deep red in color, as beautiful as that of a rose, yet too, held the same nauseating shade as that of blood. And so our story begins here. Once upon an unhappy time. [NaLu] [Full summary inside]
1. Prologue

**Full Summary: **A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme—about two lovers, worlds apart yet heavily intertwined by the strings of love. A deep red in color, as beautiful as that of a rose, yet too, held the same nauseating shade as that of blood. For if he was the day and she was the night, then their love would be the eclipse—ephemeral—but bright.

And so their story begins here. Once upon an unhappy time.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fairy Tail. Author's Note will always be at the very end of every chapter. Also, please bear in mind this is set in an alternate universe; thank you.

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**Prologue: Present Time**

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_It was snowing._

Yet the figure slowly walks on, trudging down the thick snow in the teeth-chattering chill of a December night—he wasn't one to be bothered by the cold after all. The deserted street radiated an aura of peril and melancholia, seeming rather treacherous with only the eerie, dim yellow orbs of lamp posts, serving as his only light, leaving only shadows and darkness in their midst. Still, he wanders ahead, pulling up his trademark white scarf of scaly imprints and wrapping his coat around tighter around him, never to give even a single returning glance.

_Where was he going off to in the midst of the night?_

Even he himself was uncertain—he wasn't one of plans and schedules after all; his reckless nature too dominating. If he were to look back, he would probably see from afar, the ever-so-prominent town of Magnolia still as busy as ever, despite the late night hour. It was of no surprise though. The town of his childhood had always been so. After all, it wasn't just any other night. It was Christmas eve, and people there of course, were too perked up to celebrate the Christmas season. Everybody seemed rather busy—needing to buy this and that; needing to go to here and there; needing to see their loved ones and give them their warm season's greetings for the—ironically—cold festivity.

_To see his loved one._

Yes, that was probably his purpose from the very start. That must have been his reason as to why he had decided to venture down the lonesome road, further away east from the jovial lights of the town, into the ghostly whispers of the trees which surrounded it. Wispy remains of a love long lost were probably what kept him going, its sinuous trails apathetically luring him into the forest situated by the said road.

He couldn't remember though. His mind had been a messy blur after hours of going against the cold weather without a certain destination. His head had started to pound, his body had started to shiver—unusually so. His legs had started to give in—weary—and his calloused hands had grown numb. But he didn't mind. Not one bit. Even if he was about to freeze and die right there, he still wouldn't mind. Sure enough, facing the harsh, winter winds was hard and painful.

But it was nothing compared to the heaviness he felt inside his chest.

He then looked up.

_It was still snowing._

The harsh winds blew against him—he was almost, ultimately sure the sharp whips were enough to slice through the exposed flesh of his face, quite worn with the years yet still held a youthful charm. Just one glance and anyone could tell that he was once a fine man, now trapped and kept prisoner with the emptiness he felt inside. Crystal flakes landed softly in his unkempt salmon hair, and his empty eyes as deep as the darkest of nights, which had once burned an intense fiery passion, searched the heavens listlessly—wishing, hoping for even the faintest glow of light on the horizon.

Who knows—maybe, just maybe, it would free him from his loneliness; it would release him from the air of depression which wrapped around him. After all, wasn't Christmas the season of hope? He wanted to see the stars, to gaze at fair Luna in all her beauty. He wanted to watch them glow magnificently, shining their light upon those down below, consuming the dark sky with all their majesty. He wanted to immerse himself in the heavenly wonders he had been once so interested in.

But he only saw clouds. Nothing more. And maybe, it was for the better—for him to never be reminded of distant memories, the enigmatic beauty of the celestial world brought him. And so, the flicker of hope which he felt for a fleeting, blissful moment died away—extinguished—like flame to wind.

Like life, to death.

_Christmas? Tch._

Oh, how he hated this time of the year.

Still, he moves on—_never to give even a single returning glance_—going deeper into the forest, moving further and further away from the lights until they were no more but a blur.

**::::**

It was only when he passed by the familiar—_yet painfully so_—mournful rose paths that he had finally realized where his subconscious mind was dragging him, and only then had he felt the current situation weigh heavily against the self he pitied. For the first time, ever since he had taken down the cold venture, had he shivered. No, not because he was cold—_he never had been, if his memory served him right_—but because of something else, known to him, and him alone—and maybe perhaps, the rest of Magnolia who knew of his agonizing predicament, yet can never empathize.

He shouldn't be here; there were too many memories. He wasn't ready to go yet; there was too much of him tethered to this place, and the waves of the sea not far away south mourns with him, sharing his sadness, trying to understand his pain. _Trying._

A hand places itself upon his shoulder, giving him a fleeting sense of warmth that under, rather, normal circumstances he wouldn't have expected from.

"Gray," he muttered, barely audible. And once again, the cold dominated him—partly from the unexpected companion's icy stare, which seemed to say more than what he could—or should. What the hell are you doing here? More so, alone? Have you gone insane? Do you want to be frozen to death? Don't do this to yourself. Come on, let's go back. Everyone's waiting for you. Everyone's worried sick. Everyone's—

Endless thoughts unspoken; numerous questions unasked. Yet the raven-haired man remained in uncomfortable silence, for worrying about his arch-rival out loud would seem rather uncharacteristic of him so. But he was worried all the same, whether he chooses to be vocal about it or not—thus, his presence.

"Erza asked me to fetch you," he said simply, but meaningfully so, and he knew the scarf-wearing friend wasn't stupid enough to not know that he meant—and had wanted to say—a lot, lot more than that. They had known each other long enough to converse with simple looks and stares.

And Natsu hated it—how his companion looked at him. With pity. And so silence reigned yet again, between the two unlikely friends who had spent two-thirds of every day bickering and yelling and beating the crap out of each other. But those days were long gone. Instead, there they were in tensional stillness, and Gray couldn't do much than to hunch over, hands in pocket, kicking a lump of snow quite distractedly as he did so.

He took in the cool air. "I know it's hard. So just…" a pause, "…I…I don't know. Honestly, I don't know what to say." And it was no lie. Ever since then, he never knew what to say to the friend. He had to be careful with his words. He had to be careful with his actions. He had to be careful. Period. And a careful person was he not.

What was he to say?

He thought of many—You're not alone, Natsu. Everyone else is just as heartbroken as you are. No one wanted this to happen. Please do not carry the burden alone. Please do not blame yourself. Get your act together shit-head, and stop with all these stupid nonsense and come back. Let's have another childish, senseless match like before, along with that rascal Gajeel, and then—

But he said none.

The silence was deafening. Natsu decided he had enough of Gray's not-so-pleasing companionship, turned a quarter from him and went on his way, absent-mindedly, his steps upon snow so lifeless, the crunch of his shoes against frosted grass the only audible sound—with the exception of the raging winds.

Gray knew it was only rational for him to try and stop Natsu, but rationality be damned—even he himself was very much lost and unsure of what to do. Instead, he only watched his figure disappear slowly in the distance, knowing he'd have to face Erza's wrath after of letting him just be.

He sighed, ran a hand through his raven locks. "I tried…but, I guess he only listens to _you_, huh? _Lucy…_"

He whispered to the sky—so glum, so sad, blanketed with dark clouds—

And not a star in sight.

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**::::**

_It was snowing._

And the figure, finally stopping after his long hours of journey momentarily interrupted, looked straight ahead, and in front of his coat-clad self stood a beautiful, cherry blossom tree.

A certain, cherry blossom tree, which bloomed in the brightest of pink—and blue, and yellow, and violet, and arrays of bright rainbow colors so magical, so surreal, but alluringly so.

And then a sorry excuse for a grave, by its foot.

"Hey…" he whispered—the ghost of a mocking smile painted on his lips, "…Lucy."

A heavy wind blew, and for a moment, he thought he had felt her warm touch, her comforting arms wrapped around him, like how she always did.

Yet he remained rigid, ignoring the raging wind.

Because that was all it was.

Wind.

**::::**

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_A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme, about two lovers, worlds apart yet heavily intertwined by the strings of love. A deep red in color, as beautiful as that of a rose, yet too, held the same nauseating shade as that of blood. A story of longing, wishes, friendship, love…_

_…__and death._

_And so our story begins here._

_Once upon an unhappy time._

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**Prologue End.**

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**Author's Note: **I would like to warn the possibility of a not-so-happy ending. Maybe, maybe not—I have a rather, twisted concept of 'happy ever after'.

**Inspiration:** _"Sa Bagong Paraiso"_ by _Mr._ _Efren Abueg_. It's my favorite _akdang Tagalog _(a story in my native tongue), as to which this fic is loosely based. Also, I recommend you guys go watch **FT Ep. 73 – Rainbow Sakura.**

**Additional author's note:** Okay, so I went through the reviews. The prologue here is in the present time, and is, technically, nearing the end of the actual plot. The next chapters are going to be a series flashbacks, which will, in turn, make clear the vague key points and events of the prologue. This is where all the NaLu goodness kicks in.

Just wanted to point it out so it won't be too confusing for you readers. And, while I have specifically said that the events of the prologue is already towards the end of the actual plot, this is still not yet the "complete ending", so I hope you guys read this story till the end.

Thank you.


	2. Chapter One

**Full Summary: **A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme—about two lovers, worlds apart yet heavily intertwined by the strings of love. A deep red in color, as beautiful as that of a rose, yet too, held the same nauseating shade as that of blood. For if he was the day and she was the night, then their love would be the eclipse—ephemeral—but bright.

And so their story begins here. Once upon an unhappy time.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fairy Tail. Author's Note will always be at the very end of every chapter. Also, please bear in mind this is set in an alternate universe; thank you.

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**Chapter One: Sol and Luna**

_"For he was as brazen as the summery days, and she was as serene as the celestials at night…"_

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_In lands far off; in a place cut off from time_—was a prosperous merchant city which sat southeastern of a more so prominent country. And quite a few ways off from its outskirts, was a paradise—fields of lush beautiful greeneries, dotted with flowers of colorful hues, where even rainbows are put to shame.

It was a fantasy dreamland, out of fairy tale stories—where the sun never sets, but never rises either; where one would be energized by the warmth of days, and would be compelled by the enigmatic beauty of nights. A place of tranquility, where one would know how it feels to dream, and to breathe simply because he can; where the purifying rain would fall down upon one, and stop. Fresh. New. Reborn. And a colorful rainbow would appear, where a pot of gold is said to await at the other end, yet is mysteriously never found.

It was where one would wake up under the canopy of the trees in a fine spring day with rays of sunshine peeking through leaves, and would take in the sweet perfume of the everlasting warmth in all summer's glory—where one would watch the golden brown leaves, gracefully dancing along with the chilly autumn air, and would run around the white snow in the winter seasons, playful soles wobbling along the mushy white carpets.

The nearby sea was just as majestic. The fine grains of sand would shift along ones fingers, along with the cool refreshing waters clearer than crystal, and where one would watch the tide come in, toes be tickled by the bubbles of azure shore. It was where at every sunset, the golden sun would paint the vast heavens in hues of orange, and one could only gape in awe as he stares far off the crimson horizon—then pink, then violet, and finally, the night—the night ever so wonderful where the moon would gaze down, her silver light upon paradise, and the stars would twinkle brightly as shimmers of hope in the dark sky—the constellations, celestial spirits, as guardians of the serene eve.

It was a place of wondrous mysteries, where new adventures await those of brave hearts at every corner; of endless paradoxes, where everything is not as they seem to be—_and if fairies truly have tails—_one may never know and forever seek its answer.

It was a place, simply paradise indeed. _And in the midst of it all, was a beautiful cherry blossom tree, which bloomed in the brightest of pink—and blue, and yellow, and violet, and arrays of bright rainbow colors so magical, so surreal, but alluringly so._

And by its foot, two children would play—two young children, both in the naïve, innocent age of seven.

"Tag! Hahaha! You're it!" a young boy of salmon hair would declare, with a goofy grin so warm, so bright, so summery, and would peer over his shoulder only to see his friend close behind.

And said friend—a girl of golden locks and amber eyes which twinkled like the celestials at night—would whine, "No fair, get back here," in the sweetest tune, and would then nearly trip on a root as she ran.

"Haha, slowpoke!"

"Am not!"

"Am to!"

And laughter would soon follow.

**::::**

The two had been playmates ever since they could remember—_and this paradise was their world_. They would run around the gardenia fields all day, their laughter piercing right through the crisp morning air; they would play all sorts of games and hum all sorts songs together, lying upon the fresh green grass, basking in the energizing warmth of the sun—_You know Natsu, your smile is as warm the sun. It's the first thing I see every morning—every sunrise—_

—and if they were already tired, they would cool off under the shade of the trees in the nearby woods during the eve, and would lie down the dewy grasses as they gaze up the night sky—_Well then, I guess you remind me of stars Lucy, the way your eyes glimmer._

And she would laugh.

_So you're the 'day', and I'm the 'night', huh?_

He would chuckle.

_I guess so._

**::::**

They too, were classmates. Every single day they would wait for each other in their meeting place, at the cherry blossom tree, without fail—

_I'm so sorry I'm late Natsu, I kind of overslept; how embarrassing, _she would say apologetically, as to which he would reply with an assuring grin—_That's alright, I just got here after all—_a lie—and she would notice, but would say nothing about it.

_"Let's go then!" _he piped up.

_"You seem excited for school, Natsu," _a laugh,_ "Surprising."_

Very, very surprising.

Unless…

_"It's a race this time!"_ his eyes fired up with determination_, "And I'm ultimately sure Gray will lose. I'm going to make him eat dust later. Oh! And then there's that Gajeel—"_

She would chuckle inwardly as his ramblings ensued. _She should've known._

And he would wonder, every time, without fail.

_"You'll cheer for me later, right? Lucy?"_

But he need not ask.

Her answer will always be the same.

_"Of course, Natsu."_

_Always._

They would then exchange smiles and would walk to school together, hand in hand, their feet treading along rocky gravel lined with magnificent velvet rose bush paths. And such is how their weekdays begin—along with more of their friends they are very much fond of, yet knew nothing of the secret sanctuary of the two playmates.

They would stroll around the town square, then the busy marketplace, enjoying the festive atmosphere the late afternoon in Magnolia brought. They would skip down the town's main street and would play hide-and-seek at its maze-like alleys. Afterwards they would walk by the port and watch the sunset together. They would say each others' "Goodnight's," and would go to sleep, whisked away into the land of dreams, before the sun shines once again, and another beautiful day repeats itself.

Both lived perfect lives, in a perfect place simply paradise indeed—a wonderland, a realm, which in all its' beauty and splendor seemed like one from a dream.

_And the young boy and girl, with their childish innocence to the harsh world still intact, never saw the nightmares which lay ahead._

And here they were again, enjoying each other's company like how they usually do, on a snowy day—that time of the year which they least liked—_for neither sun nor moon is in sight_—yet loved all the same. That day, they had a snowball fight. They had built a snowman. They had made snow angels, and now, they sat by the rainbow cherry blossom tree's branches, still as summery pink as ever despite the cool season.

She shivered. _It's chilly. _He shifted closer. _Let's share my scarf then Lucy. _And she would murmur her gratitude with flushed cheeks, which she firmly believed was from the cold. And every once in a while, their eyes would meet, and would automatically exchange smiles with no particular reason. And at occasional times, when their arms would brush—sometimes uneasiness, sometimes a certain flutter—whatever it was, a certain feeling would come across them—red cheeks, hands shaky, hearts thumping loudly they would simply dismiss as weariness from all the playing.

Maybe it was because of the different sensations which whirled inside them whenever they were together. They never knew what it was—a strange, unexplainable emotion which had probably developed over time, perhaps by accident, perhaps not.

_They never knew_—for life was just one happy game for them—the young boy and the young girl.

Such pure, blissful innocence. That was the magic of their wonderland.

But sometimes, magic can only be an illusion.

And illusions, no matter how real they seem, fade.

Like flame to wind,

Like life to death—

.

.

.

_—__Like Sol and Luna's ephemeral paradise, in a once upon an unhappy time._

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_Voices._

_"There they go again, our little princess and that…that peasant boy."_

_Disgust. Resentment. A venomous whisper of a gruff voice which resounded throughout dark, cavernous halls of a rather prison-like manor—seemingly lonesome and cold with none but two figures who stood by its windows._

_Both gazed outside—one of pure loathe—thus the resentful click of a tongue; and the other of simple understanding—a patience which could only come from the warmest of a maternal love._

_So she spoke, in an attempt to seethe the tension._

_"Oh Jude, let them be. They are still young after all."_

_"No. Such, cannot be. You know our family has a reputation to maintain, and I cannot allow shame to the mighty name of Heartfilia. Our heritage is noble. Never shall it be tainted, Layla."_

_"Jude—"_

_"Don't worry. Everything will be all right. Time will come, and Lucy will understand better the circumstances. She's a smart child after all."_

_"Yet still, a 'child'—you said so yourself. I don't think that…"_

_She fell silent. She knew. She knew very well it was a pointless argument, for also she knew the stubbornness of the man she had promised eternity to. He would—or rather—should, always have the final say, and if thy rule be broken, his rage and rashness will be the subjective verdict._

_And just exactly that, he did._

_"I'll let them be. I'll let them play—for now. However, I will do what I see is fit," a pause, "And so will you, Layla."_

_A doubtful glance._

_A defeated sigh._

_"Alright. If you say so…"_

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**Chapter One End.**

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**Author's Note:** Personally, there are still some parts I'm quite unsure of, and would rather rephrase or edit, but sadly, my thinking capacity had been too spent.

**Definition of terms: **ephemeral – short-lived, fleeting; sol – sun; luna – moon

**THANK YOU** to those who have added "_Ephemeral Paradise"_ to their Story Alerts, Story Favorites, and of course, to those who have reviewed—I loved reading through them, thanks. And thank you as well to those who have added me, to Favorite Authors and Author Alert.


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Fairy Tail. Author's Note will always be at the very end of every chapter. Also, please bear in mind this is set in an alternate universe; thank you ^^ NaLu all the way!

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**Chapter Two: The Princess and The Knight**

_"She was his fair princess, __his __damsel-in-distress; __and he was the knight-in-shining armor to her fairy tale story..."_

**::::**

Despite locked up resentments and hushed defiance from the judgmental society towards the shame of an unlikely friendship, more years of blissful companionship did come to pass, between the young heiress and the peasant boy—both now twelve years of age. But still, they have yet to realize, the cruel reality of the world outside the protective walls of their little paradise.

They never noticed how different they were.

She was the very epitome of beautiful—with stunning amber eyes as clear as crystal, shining an enigmatic gold when under the sun—and every time he would gaze upon them, it was as if a glimpse of the shimmering stars despite in midday; and he loved the way her tresses of a yellow shade even brighter than sunshine would frame her delicate face with such perfection—like a painting; a masterpiece of art—as though a resurrected Venus with Luna's allure. She blushed roses without the help of rouge, and her so soft, so sweet beautiful voice which escaped her honey-glazed, rosebud lips was a soothing melody one would love to listen to all day—yet a privilege reserved for him, and only him.

And the people awed her beauty.

Whilst he was as simple as a boy can be. Like her, he too, was beautiful—with his hair of a rare pink shade, spiked as if to resemble a ferocious lion's mane, yet soft to the touch—and the girl had always loved the ticklish sensation of running her hands through them. His eyes were dark, deep, but never empty and distant for in them were his determination ablaze mirrored, and his diligence of working all-day-long in the fields were evident in his toned, muscled, lean body. And his smile—his smile with the warmth of summer—was what the girl loved the most about him. Yet unlike the young heiress revered by all, the peasant boy had been banished instead, exiled from the high-class society which surrounded him, people in denial of the notion that there could still be beauty in one as lowly as he.

And thus, his mere existence was unaccepted at most.

But blinded by their innocence, numbed by their youth, neither was aware of the greatly mistaken presumptions.

They never noticed.

They never noticed—how the girl always wore dresses of expensive cloth and intricate designs, of diamond-rimmed hems and gem-patterned sleeves; and the boy being able to do with merely a plain top made quite loose to his liking, greased from hours of labor, shorts quite faded with time—and a white scarf of scaly imprint would always be present, either wrapped around his head, hung by the neck or tied onto his waist—he never went without it. And for this, whenever the boy and girl were together, those around them would send questioning stares their way, probably wondering how such beautiful friendship could exist between a descended angel and a mere mortal.

They never noticed—how the girl simply had everything, whilst the boy had close to none; one granted by all the riches and luxurious comfort, the other was harshly denied. And it was the laughable quirk of destiny—how the boy and girl greatly contrasted each other, yet shared the most similarities than anyone else in the world.

They never noticed—how it was evident from even a stranger's eye that they were simply of different worlds— parallel—never meant, and never should collide, but upon fate's intervention, they did.

They were different. Too different. However, that too, they never noticed.

And it was quite the irony, as to how they would ask each other about what they want to be when they grow up, and the girl would happily exclaim—

_"I want to become a princess!"_ when she already was one, and the boy would declare—

_"I'll be your knight in shining armor then, Lucy,"_ when his state was far from someone of expensive silver armor.

**::::**

She laughed, "My knight?"

He grinned. "Uh-huh. After all, every princess needs one," and then a sincere smile, "I promise, Lucy, I'll protect you. Always. I'll never leave your side."

And by those few words, both knew they meant a lot more. I promise I'll protect you. I promise I'll never leave your side. I promise I'll make you smile all the time. I promise I'll never make you cry, and if I ever, unintentionally do, I'll lend you my shoulder and let you cry all you want, and then I'll make you smile again; and if someone else makes those tears fall, I promise I'll kick his ass for you—yet he no longer need say those lengthy words, for they were evident in his eyes.

And oh, his eyes—his eyes which burned a fiery passion. Lucy couldn't help but blush—he never failed to make her heart flutter with his words so sincere and heartfelt; such was the character of Natsu Dragneel. And even though she knew perfectly his answer, she felt the urge to ask—

"You promise, Natsu?"

But she need not ask.

For his answer would always be the same.

"I promise. I swear on my life, I'd never break this vow," and then he would add, barely a whisper—and never heard by the girl—

.

.

.

_…__I'd rather die than leave you, Lucy._

Such was the extent of his pledge.

**::::**

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**::::**

"Natsu...um..."

She was about to ask him once again, for the umpteenth time that day, what they were supposedly doing standing in a rather empty kitchen—in _his _empty kitchen—never mind that he woke her up at eight in the morning for whatever on earth was going on. For _this. _Thus her presence in his house—dusty, messy, (typical Natsu) and with an obvious lack of silverware and equipment—before then realizing the room was _not_ entirely empty after all.

On the table rested a basket, stuffed with layers of folded cloth quite messily so—Lucy noted—and upon closer inspection had a gasp escaped from her parted lips. In it was a small kitten, fur of a rare pretty blue, sleeping peacefully within the white sheets which carefully wrapped its frail figure.

"Natsu!" she exclaimed as he leaned over behind her, grinning as he did so. "This…this is…" she was at a loss of words.

"You like that shade of blue, right?" he laughed. "It's a 'he', by the way."

"Where did you get him?"

"Hatched from a dragon's egg."

"Cats don't hatch from dragon eggs, Natsu."

"Well, this one did."

"Oh sure."

"Hey, don't I at least get a 'thanks'?"

Lucy blinked. "Eh? Why?"

Natsu blinked. "Um, because..._he's yours?_"

Lucy fell into incredulous silence, eyes wide. Which took her—

One.

Two.

—Three long seconds before being able to process his words.

"E-eh? No way!"

"Why? You don't like him?"

"Stupid! Of course I do!" she quickly snapped. "B-but—"

Her gaze shifted back to the sleeping bundle of blue-furred joy in the basket, and her eyes softened with impeccable glee. Still, she asked, fumbling over her words, "Why…what…Natsu—?"

And he chose to laugh at her stuttering spectacle, then patted her head.

"Hey! Why are you laughing?"

"'Cause you're a weirdo, Luce—"

.

.

.

"—a weirdo who forgets her own birthday."

**::::**

* * *

**::::**

_"__Luce?"_

_"__Hm?"_

_"__Happy birthday."_

_The now thirteen-year-old smiled. "How many times do you plan to greet me?" a laugh, "But still, Natsu, thank you. So much. You always do something special for my birthday—really; I don't know what to say."_

_"__I don't need you to say anything. As long as I know you're happy, I'm fine with that."_

_"__I am Natsu. I am."_

_And then a pondering thought—as both strolled by the port, enjoying the sunset view after a long day—taking their sweet time as they went down the familiar way to the Heartfilia Konzern._

_"__Happy, huh. Hmmm. It's a nice name, don't you think? Happy."_

_"__What do you mean?"_

_"__I'm saying; let's name him 'Happy'," a grin, "What do you say?"_

_A glance._

_A chuckle._

_"__It's a nice name. 'Happy' it is, then."_

_And with this said she tightened her hold around the basket, where in its white sheets slumbered away the blue kitten. Now a 'mother' to Happy, with Natsu by her side, she felt the happiest she could ever be._

**::::**

* * *

**::::**

But happiness wasn't meant to last—happiness was ephemeral; and so is their quaint little paradise which shunned the reality of the world.

For reality remains unchanged, even with time. And if time were to change anything, it wouldn't be of the fact that whilst she was a princess, he was no knight, and the sham of a promise of forever was slowly shattering—the pledge of eternal ecstasy more so.

But they never noticed.

They never noticed—for innocence was bliss—the young boy and girl still lost in _'once upon a time's_ and _'happy ever after'_; still trapped in their own fairy tale.

Yet, however, as they would play by the town square on occasional times, overhearing the townspeople's hushed conversations was rather inevitable.

_Whispers._

_"There they go again; the young miss and that peasant boy. Sir Heartfilia is not so happy about it. I mean, their family has a reputation to maintain after all."_

_"Oh. Then, does that mean—"_

_"Ah. Guess you can say that."_

_A click of a tongue. "Oh dear, oh dear. How pitiful. Pitiful indeed. And to think they could've made a lovely couple someday…"_

_A sigh, "Some things are just not meant to be…"_

Both Lucy and Natsu could only wonder at what they could've possibly meant.

**::::**

* * *

But their innocent minds never figured it out.

However, as they laid side-by-side upon the grasses once again during the early hours of night—they felt it—a small hint of doubt which had arisen, images of the villagers' heads crowded together and their whispering lips playing again and again in their clouded minds.

And slowly, were the walls of their paradise being torn down.

"Natsu?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise you'll never leave me?"

It was completely out of the blue—even Lucy herself was surprised at the words which left her slightly quivering lips. And even though she had let it out, it did nothing to soothe the uneasiness which dominated her thoughts.

Natsu laughed—as though the idea itself was unthinkable—however, his slightly disturbed mind seemed to say otherwise. But he paid no heed. "Weirdo," he took her hand and squeezed it, "I'll never leave you. I promise, Lucy."

His gaze then landed upon the blue kitten, purring contentedly as he snuggled comfortably in his arms. "After all, we have Happy to take care of now, right?"

Lucy remained silent, and then smiled. "Yeah. Let's be the best parents for Happy."

"That's the spirit."

They held hands.

They laughed.

They looked up at the sky—quite cloudy, yet stars still in sight…

And over their figures loomed the beautiful cherry blossom tree which continuously bloomed in the brightest of pink—and blue, and yellow, and violet, and arrays of bright rainbow colors, still so magical, so surreal, but ever alluringly so.

Perhaps their paradise could still be saved.

Perhaps.

And as long as the cherry blossom tree keeps on blooming—maybe; just maybe—in their own little wonderland, they can keep on believing in the illusion created by ignorant rapture; that she was his fair princess—the damsel-in-distress—and he was the knight-in-shining armor to her fairy tale story.

"Don't worry, Lucy…everything will be all right…" Natsu whispered, more to himself than the companion.

Never in his life had he sounded so unsure, and he himself wished that he could believe his own words.

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**Chapter Two End.**

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**THANK YOU** to those who have added "_Ephemeral Paradise"_ to their Story Alerts, Story Favorites, and of course, to those who have reviewed—I loved reading through them, thanks. And thank you as well to those who have added me, to Favorite Authors and Author Alert.


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